


Capable

by Faestae



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dirty Fighting, Dom!Kylo, F/M, Shower Sex, Sparring, Vaginal Penetration, strong female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faestae/pseuds/Faestae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: As the granddaughter of the mysterious Supreme Leader Snoke, you've been sent to Starkiller to test the dubious Kylo Ren. He doesn't trust you, but who would? You were a menace with a saber, just as he was. But he's going to find out just how capable you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capable

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Could you do like a one-shot where the reader is like Snoke’s granddaughter/daughter or something and Kylo Ren has been assigned to protect her while she stays at the base? 
> 
> A/N: FIRST OF ALL, I am SO SORRY for the delay in this delivery. I went back and forth for DAYS on this deciding how I was going to execute this in such a way that was unique, and maybe a little different idk. I’m sorry if it feels rushed. I’m debating on attempting this again at a later date. Despite that, I did my very best and I hope you all enjoy.

They told you Kylo Ren was reckless.  
  
You were inclined to agree, and still as you sat alone in the training room, you kept your eyes focused straight ahead, meditating on the evidence you’ve seen of his temper that was scattered all around your space.  
  
_“Supreme Leader,” the voice is Kylo Ren’s, its grumbling through gritted teeth “I am unsure what it is you’re asking of me.”_  
  
You heard the stories of his terror, his malice. The way rooms would fall silent when he would enter, and the pressure he exerted just by walking by. They called him “Jedi killer” and you believed it. Murderous without a second thought.                
  
_“It’s simple, Ren.”_  
  
_He’s trembling with anger as Snoke speaks._  
  
_“You will accompany Y/N during her stay on the Starkiller.”_  
  
_You don’t comment, just raise your eyes to your grandfather’s image, feeling Kylo Ren fume to your right. From under your hood, you’re forcing back a smirk._  
  
Stories of his rage filled you with fascination and insatiable curiosity. To see this exertion yourself would surely delight you, as you too relished in the power of the Dark Side.  
  
_“If she truly trained under you, she needs no escort,” he turns to look at you and your eyes remain forward. Lowering your eyes, you remove your hood, letting your locks of hair free to fall down your back._  
  
But you yourself were as beautiful as you were terrible.  
  
_Kylo’s next words get caught in his throat._  
  
_“As capable as she is,” Snoke droned, “She has much to learn of the Force and the true power of the Dark Side.”_  
  
_“Grandfather,” you say gently, “I will not disappoint you,”_  
  
Drawing yourself to your center, you became aware of him. Your meditation ended with his detection.  
  
Kylo was lurking along the outskirts of the training room, trying to catch you off guard. You pulled yourself in again, breathing deeply, and creating ripples of your influence that bounced and waved around you. You could feel everything in your immediate area, from the dust particles to the air he displaced with his breathing. His bare feet were padding gently on the mat, the shifting of his simple tunic and pants leaving evidence of his whereabouts in your ear.  
  
He lunged toward you all at once with a yell.  
  
In an instant, you’re blocking. Both hands pressed against the stick you swiped from the far side of the room.  
  
Kylo’s dark eyes lock onto yours, and he shudders, pressing harder against you, but braced against the mat, you’re steady.  
  
“Ren,” you say with a click of your tongue, “Assaulting your guest?” Pushing him up, he stumbles back and you click your tongue, “My grandfather mentioned your tendency for,” you give him the once-over. “dominance.”  
  
“Why are you here?” Kylo’s face is red, his hair pulled back out of his eyes with a small clip, leaving a small strand laying down on his face. He narrows his eyes, “It’s clear you do not require protection at all.”  
  
“How observant of you,” you twirl the practice stick in your hand and toss it aside.  
  
“Are you here to test me?” he presses you, watching you put your hands on your hips, “Does the Supreme Leader doubt me?”  
  
“Questions, questions,” you muse you twirl your wrist, inspecting your fingernails, “If my grandfather wished you to know, he would have told you, Ren.”  
  
“Do not patronize me, woman, answer me!” he shouts, clenching his fists.  
  
Rocking one his to the side, you click your tongue. “Pugnacious, aren’t we?”  
  
He’s silenced for a short time, but his rage is bubbling off of him still.  
  
“What if I told you,” you say slowly, taking a few strolling paces around the sparring ring, “That I was the first in line to command the Knights of Ren.”  
  
“You’re lying.” He growls through gritted teeth.  
  
You raise one eyebrow, “Am I?”  
  
Kylo doesn’t reply, catching your glance and you share a moment of quiet.  
  
“It would make the most sense, don’t you agree? The very spawn of the Great Supreme Leader as the rightful commander of the Knights of Ren, bringing order to the chaos that is the New Republic’s galaxy,” You flashed your eyes at him, letting them trail down his muscular form.  
  
“Is that your purpose, then?” Kylo scoffs, “Supreme Leader Snoke sent you to replace me? To dethrone me?”  
  
A grin spreads across your face as you take a few more steps, holding your hands behind your back, “Do you think I could?”  
  
“Never.”  
  
You reach up, pulling your hair out of your face, securing it with a pin you kept behind your ear. One rogue curl mirrored his own across your forehead. “Yet your curiosity grips you.” You stop walking, standing with your feet a small width apart. “You wonder if I am really as capable as my grandfather believes me to be.”  
  
“You cannot best me,” Kylo says firmly, his handsome face contorted in anger. His pressure is pushing against you now, and you shudder in anticipation. “The Supreme Leader selected me, and I am the First Order’s rightful commander.”  
  
“Why don’t we spar then.” You request is sudden, and it piques his interest. “You seem to want to know how strong I really am,”  
  
He eyes you up and down, and you shift, allowing him to see the muscles move under your flesh. You knew this is what he wanted; a chance to strike you down.  
  
Taking one step to circle you, you mirror him, moving in the other direction. He was trying to penetrate you, but you swatted his influence away with a smirk.  
  
Far off, a stick trembles and flies across the room into his hand. It’s his own practice saber with an extension of the hilt. It’s beaten and old, but its strength didn’t come from the blade, but the hand that wielded it. “Fine.” He grunts.  
  
Turning around, you walk on your toes to the array of weapons. You take the double-sided model, weighing it in your hand before gripping it. When you turn back around, he’s glaring at you.  
  
“Have you ever sparred with a woman before, Ren?” You casually tap the edge of the sparring stick against the mat as you approach giving it a practice twirl.  
  
Kylo doesn’t take his eyes off of you, his knuckles turning white around the practice stick, “And lost? Never,”  
  
“Well,” you snicker, “Today is going to be a very interesting day for you then, isn’t it?”  
  
“No Force,” he snarls.  
  
You echo him, “No Force.”  
  
The first lunge is precise and you’re on the offensive. The stick clack hard in the silence of the training room as he deflects your every advance.  Pushing and pushing you thrust him back, and he grunts with every impact, struggling to keep up with you. Mimicking ancient Sith technique, you turn your feet in such a way that your body whirls around, and you’re deflecting Kylo’s next several moves one after the other.  
  
Gaining momentum, you’re whirling the stick over your head, meeting Kylo’s stick in a quickened rhythm, but he’s faster. He knows you can only his with either end of your staff, and he times each parry with precision, until you slip and are forced on the defensive.  
  
Kylo’s technique was as terrifying as you heard. There was no sense of predictability in his movements and as he pressured you back, you grinned wickedly. Adrenaline swept through you, and you could feel his advance like his own hands caressing your curves, pushing you back, keeping you pressed down on the mat.  
  
Finally, he swings overhead and you deflect with the hilt of your stick in between your hands. You’re trapped in a deadlock.  
  
You take a moment to breathe in the look of him. He’s like an animal, primal in his urge to best you, as if he’s proving something to himself and too you. His desire to put you in your place tingles between your legs. “You’re awfully quick,” you breathe.  
  
“Your Sith technique has no power here,” Kylo snaps.  
  
“I beg to differ,” you catch his hands trembling as he tries to push you down. “My grandfather trained me too, you know.”  
  
A bead of sweat forms at his hairline, and his scowl is deeper than ever. He’s breathing with his entire chest.  
  
“I do believe we’re even.”  
  
He presses you harder, “I don’t.”  
  
Running your tongue across your bottom lip, you grin, “Fight me, Ren. Show me your true power–Show me you’re capable.”  
  
With a roar, he shoves you back and you throw your arms back, landing on your hands and kicking yourself back up again, but he lunges to strike again, twirling the sparring stick aggressively.  
  
Quickly, you parry, but the force of his second overhead swing shatters your stick. Shards of your practice stick fly from the impact point, and you fumble for a section to hold onto.  
  
Victory burns in his eyes as his weapon comes down towards your face, but you’re quicker. Flicking your wrists around, you cross your weapons into an ‘x’, stopping him cold. Dual-wield.  
  
Kylo pants, his lips parting in shock.  
  
With a powerful yell, you yank your arms out, forcing him to stumble back, raising your leg to kick him down.  
  
Re-actively, he snatches you by the ankle, throwing it out from your center of balance.  
  
With a grunt, he hits the mat, the wind knocked out of him, and you, knocked off balance, hit the mat on your chest, your weapons flying out of your hands.  
  
Draw.  
  
Pushing yourself up you eye him over his knees as he sits up to look at you. The adrenaline that coursed through you swelled and settled between your legs. His body, long and lean stretched back before you, sent a slow wave of predatory arousal through you.  
  
“Very good,” you purr.  
  
Kylo’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and you see the moment his hunger for dominance turns soft.  
  
Like a wild cat, you start to crawl, dipping low into each stride forward until you’re crawling over his steaming body. Arching your back, you accentuate your curves, and for a split second, he loses your stare to watch your hips as they rock back and forth.  
  
When Kylo brings his eyes back to you, you can see the arousal building in him, sensing the growth between his thighs.  
  
“I see now,” you whisper, dragging every word out to its length, “why my grandfather trusts you so much,”  
  
He doesn’t respond, just stares deeper, fighting the urging of the Force that stood on end in the training room.  
  
“You really are reckless.” The word resonates with him and he swallows hard. “Dangerous, even..” a bead of sweat falls from your neck and lands on his chest, mingling with his own. You shamelessly look him up and down, tossing your hair to one side and letting him glance down your chest. “The First Order will surely thrive under your influence.”  
  
He snatches your chin before you can pull away, and lightning strikes in the pressure between your gaze. Hesitation grips him, only his plump lips twitching in anticipation. He’s watching your lips and you let him watch your tongue lick them.  
  
Suddenly, he lets go, but the pressure in his trousers is still lapping at you.  
  
You sit up on your knees, hovering your hips over his, “Hit the shower, Ren,” you whisper, pushing yourself to your feet. “I think you’re going to need it,”  
  
———————  
  
He finds you quickly.  
  
When you’re running the water through your hair, letting the sweat run off of your body, he throws you around, pressing you against the cold shower wall with one massive hand to your collarbone.  
  
You gasp, the chill of the steel immobilizing you, “Ren,”  
  
“Shh.” The water begins to soak him, pressing his raven hair against his brow and he looks down at you, still panting through his open lips. He stares intently at you, taking in the sight of you, wet and vulnerable, the water running down your face and neck.  
  
Before you can speak, he slides two fingers in between your legs, searching for your clit.  
  
Pleasure erupts in your tummy and you let out a moan, instinctively reaching down to grab his wrist.  
  
Kylo snatches your hands, pinning them up above your head, exposing your breasts to him. He eyes the intricacies of your curves, and in the back of his throat, you could feel him purring. Water trailed down your collarbone, stimulating your nipples, drawing Kylo’s attention.  
  
He leans down, sucking one of your perky breasts into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your tenderness. He grazes his teeth on the nipple, pressing it into your breast with his tongue before letting it free again to be drenched with water.  
  
Slowly, he rubbed your swollen clit with two fingers, listening to your breathing change with every iteration of his touch.  
  
“You think you have power over me.” Kylo whispers, relishing in seeing your pleasured face cringe and blush for him.  
  
You buck your hips into his hand, and he curls his fingers up into your folds in response, tilting his chin up with a confident snarl.  
  
“You cannot best me. I never lose.”  
  
His fingers urge you, massaging your tender insides at the length of his meticulous fingers. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your face while he fucks you with his hand, grinning wickedly as he moves you.  
  
Three fingers now, and you arch your back, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you with a desperate moan.  
  
He silences you with his lips, feasting on your submission to his will, and returning your moans with moans of his own. The salt of your combined sweat mingling on your lips as it runs down your chin before dripping to the floor.  
  
Primal instinct presses you back against the wall harder, and as you struggle against him, he grips you harder, his one hand holding both of your wrists in place with ease. Suddenly, his hand slips into yours and the intimacy spikes, settling down in the moment you two met half way in your passion.  
  
Kylo is soaking wet now, with every breath, water flecks off of his mouth onto yours, his breathing intensifies, his arousal throbbing against your leg for every moan you feed him. “Yes.” He pants into your mouth, “Give in.”  
  
The kiss being broken, you let your head fall to one side, your body writhing in pleasure under his hand, his techniques in your womanhood as unpredictable as his skill with a light saber. You’re jerking now, unable to keep and maintain a rhythm. He’s fast, then he’s slow, dragging his fingers along your clit until you’re cursing under your breath.  
  
He’s ready now, his cock that was pulsing on your thigh was poised to penetrate. He grabs your leg and lifts it up over his elbow and presses his hand back against the wall, exposing your womanhood. Releasing your hands, he runs his fingers through his wet hair, revealing his handsome face to you. Confidence swells in him and without taking his eyes off of your face, he slips inside of you.  
  
He watches his cock disappear between your folds, trembling as he grips you as the water rains down on his body. Grunting with every thrust, he pins your hips against the wall, his fingers desperate to find traction.  
  
With each thrust, he fills you even more, pressing your insides apart with his length, repeatedly tossing you up against the shower walls. He lets go of your hands, using both of his arms to brace himself against you. You reach back around his neck, grabbing fistfuls of his wet hair, yanking his head back.  
  
A heavy moan escapes his lips as he submits to the pleasure that is starting to swell in him. He starts to pant, losing control of his thrusting rhythm, caving in to his desire to finish you. The slapping of wet flesh and stifled moans echo in the empty shower room.  
  
His intensity increases suddenly, digging his fingers into your flesh, mounting pressure building in his groin. He dips his head down to kiss you again, forcing you to last longer, but his cock is urging you too hard too fast.  
  
He senses it, and he grins, “How long can you last?” he whispers in between thrusts. “How long can you take me before you scream? Just how capable are you to resist me?”  
  
“Oh, Oh, Ren,” you let your head fall back and he pinned his lips on your neck, biting and sucking hard on you, forcing you to the edge, “Don’t stop!”  
  
He obeys, his hips pumping you faster, harder, the sounds of your body falling into his control fueling his pace, pushing you, pushing you, harder, faster, until it hits.  
  
With a wail, you spill yourself on him, your fluids mingling with the water of the shower and his sweat running down his trembling legs. He comes right after you, yanking himself out and splattering his come on your groin and thighs. He watches it as it runs down your leg.  
  
Panting, he lets your other leg down and you stumble back into the wall.  
  
“You better hit the shower,” he whispers. “You’re going to need it.”


End file.
